


What You See is Me

by QuirkyTumbles



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Homesickness, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:54:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28504068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuirkyTumbles/pseuds/QuirkyTumbles
Summary: George is too stressed out to sleep one night while on tour. Ringo does what he can to help.
Relationships: George Harrison/Ringo Starr
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29
Collections: Starrison Holiday Gift Exchange 2020





	What You See is Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [galacticmistake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/galacticmistake/gifts).



> I'm really sorry about the wait, galacticmistake! Happy holidays, happy New Year, and I hope you enjoy the fic 🎁

George opened his eyes, staring at the wall beside the bed for what felt like the fifteenth time that night. He tugged at the collar of his t-shirt. The rough fabric of the blanket felt like sandpaper against his arms. The room seemed to go back and forth between feeling too hot and too cold.

He should have gotten used to staying in hotels by that point, but it wasn't easy getting used to anything when you had to face a new one every day. Well, it wasn't always every single day, but it was never long before they'd find themselves in a new room in a new hotel in a new city—

Something collided with the back of his ankle. He almost jumped before realizing it was only Ringo. He tried to turn himself around as quietly as possible, but the other man was already slowly waking up.

"...What happened?"

George grinned. "You can't just go around kicking people and pretending not to know."

"Sorry… Did I wake you up?"

"No, you were a bit late for that."

"Oh." Ringo rubbed at his eyes, still looking a little disoriented. "You alright?"

"Can't sleep," said George. "Just thinking about how many days we have left of this."

"Homesick?"

"No! Just…" George sighed. "I don't think so. Stress of touring, I suppose."

"It's a lot," Ringo said plainly. The sleepiness in his voice was evident, and George began to feel a bit guilty for even bringing it up. Ringo didn't need reminding of that. All four of them were in this together; of course it wasn't just him.

His thoughts were interrupted again when he felt Ringo's forehead press against his shoulder. He only hesitated for a moment before wrapping his arm around the other man, who shifted in closer and placed his hand on top of George's. The room stopped feeling quite as cold.

"Well, I'm here to listen," Ringo spoke up again, settling in against him.

"I guess—" Shit, it was too late for this. He was tired, and didn't want to start whinging. Ringo was tired, and certainly wouldn't want to hear him whinging either. But if he didn't get it off his chest now...

He took a deep breath. "It's all the travelling. The bad parts of it, anyway. We just got here yesterday, and we're leaving again tomorrow. Just like with all the other stops." The words were spilling out before he could stop himself. "And we've still got two weeks of it left…"

He continued rambling on for a minute, blurting out whatever thoughts came to mind. He wasn't even sure if it was making any sense. Ringo listened quietly, gently rubbing the back of George's hand with his thumb, occasionally murmuring in assent.

If it weren't for the exhaustion, he wouldn't have said anything. He would have been able to just joke about it and move on, just like the four of them all did when things got too stressful. But while jokes helped, it was refreshing to have someone to talk to without the mask on and acknowledge how it actually felt.

His mind was still racing a bit, and he tried to focus on the feeling of Ringo's hair against his neck. Something familiar...

"...Sorry," he finished, rather abruptly. "Here I am, talking your head off—"

"My head will be fine." Ringo squeezed his hand. "Talk as much as you want."

"It's all just complaining, though."

"Well, there is both good and bad to things, you know. Nothing wrong with talking about either sometimes." Ringo turned onto his side, resting his head on George's chest and wrapping his arm around his torso. "It's sort of a relief to hear somebody else say what you've been thinking. You forget sometimes…" He trailed off.

"You're right," George said, feeling himself relax a little. "And thank you." The little details about this particular hotel room no longer seemed to bother him as much. He yawned again, his eyelids heavy.

It seemed like Ringo was drifting off again too, gradually leaning more against his side. He mumbled something into George's chest.

"Hm?" George sighed, nuzzling his soft hair.

Ringo only hugged his waist a little tighter in response. George completely understood.


End file.
